Not surprisingly, his moments of uneasecoincided with a few ofmy own white knuckle memories: A couple of “don’t look down” spots on the side of Camelback Mountain (we both looked!) and on the side of an almost bald outcropping on Bear Mountain where sudden hail and wind gusts made hugging a scrubby bush more about survival than about any warm environmental feelings.

Anytime you get to push a shoulder into your own boundary and expand the edge line out a little further, you facilitate your own growth. When you can do that in the company of someone you care about, you have a witness with whom to frame and commemorate the change.

“What a great trip!” Not sure which one of us said it first. But either one of us could have stated the obvious.

Cathedral Rock was our parting shot, our one last hike on the way out of Sedona a couple of years ago. Zach and I both deemed it a good choice. It was a fun scramble up the sides of red rocks. A couple of chutes made some of the hike feel like a child’s playground, complete with slides. As always, it was easier to climb up than to ease one’s way back down again. These slides had no patient parent waiting at the bottom to slow a fast descent, and a couple of bounces could generate enough momentum to take you on quite the ride!

Piles of rock enmeshed in wire marked the trail, looking like the vastly upgraded contents of invisible trash cans. With red rock rolling out in every direction the markers were necessary to keeping one’s bearings. Up extended in multiple angled directions. Not a bad thing to keep in mind wherever you happen to be hiking.